This Easter Monday, the inhabitants of Tricot will play a part of this ancestral game. They are the last, in Picardy, to perpetuate this tradition.
“We don't want to lose a movement of the players, nor one of the many twists and turns of the drama that will unfold,” describes Father Martin Val in 1891. Above all, what we fear is receiving an unexpected kiss from the choule, or from its caresses, which break our nose and teeth.